


Won't Break My Heart (So I Let Him Go)

by Seaki



Category: Maine & Wolf
Genre: M/M, Self Harm, Spies & Secret Agents, mentions of domestic violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seaki/pseuds/Seaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brandt uses pain to ground himself - to keep him sane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Won't Break My Heart (So I Let Him Go)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PilotintheAttic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilotintheAttic/gifts).



Brandt wasn't normally so careless. He had a steady hand and a sharp eye. It's something required in the life of a spy - he couldn't falter, or stumble. But he wasn't careful. He had stopped being careful, because he just didn't care. He wanted to hurt. 

He deserved to hurt. 

The first time was an accident - he pressed his stomach against a radiator that was heating the room. He just wanted to grab something from above it - he couldn't even remember what it was now. It didn't matter. He had flinched back, but the damage was done already. 

And it was amazing. His mind was sharp and refocused on only the pain. It didn't hurt like he remembered pain to be. If felt like a sharp bite against his skin - a nip of a playful puppy, and not like pain. He felt the cloud that hovered over his mind lift - if only for a moment. But a glorious moment. "Shit!" He heard Maine, who rushed to sit him down. He felt the cloth get cut away, and something cold and soothing press to the burn. 

It stung so beautifully.

He just smiled at his partner, muttering a small note of thanks. The pain was already fading, but the wound still stung, chasing away his mind's fog. He scratched at the open sore once Maine left. The cloud was gone - he could think again! He could maybe be normal for once - just this once. He scratched harder, desperate to keep his mind here. He needed this. He needed it so much. Maine returned, pulling his bloodied fingers away from his stomach. The wound was washed and wrapped and the prick of a needle was all it took. 

The cloud was already returning to his mind.

Painkillers were letting the cloud ebb back in, and it came with a vengeance, burning the corners of his sanity. He gave a small whine, desperate to claw back open his stomach - he scratched at the bandages but nothing. 

Maine stayed with him that night, worrying fretfully over the burns. He changed the bandages when the soaked through with blood and pressing his lips to Brandt's temple. He kept trying to convince Brandt to go to the hospital. "I'm fine, Maine. Really," he murmured, resting his forehead against Maine's. He gave a small smile to reassure his partner. 

They curled up together, Maine was so careful. Brandt was grateful for him, so blessed. He murmured softly to his lover, reassurances and declarations of his adoration while he still had bits of his sanity. He refused to let Maine leave him, not for this. He needed Maine, dear heart. He couldn't give him up. 

But why would Maine stay with someone so volitile? He pressed his face to Maine's hair, breathing in his scent. He needed to remember the exact scent if Maine wanted to leave him. It was almost inevitable. 

Maine woke hours later, looking barely rested. Brandt watched him rise and mumble incoherently as he headed to the kitchen. The painkillers had worn off sometime during the night and began to chase away the haze of his mind. 

So he stayed awake, watching Maine as he slept. He wanted to enjoy his Lover in every state, but Maine's constant worry over him was affecting his health. He stood, touching his stomach. Blood had soaked through the bandage sometime though the night. 

He padded into the bathroom, looking into the mirror. He was pale from blood loss, and he was a litlte bit lightheaded from walking, but he pulled at the bandage, loosening it. It fell from his stomach, revealing the burned skin underneath. He could see pieces of flesh and fat and dark tissue from the burns. It looked horrid and disgusting. He frowned at his reflection, placing a hand against the wound.

He dug for new bandages, letting blood drip from his wound. He did not hear Maine's footsteps as he entered the room, but Brandt heard the small whine is distress come from his lover. 

Maine helped Brandt re-wrap the wound. He could see Maine's worry, and it was touching. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll ask to delay the assignment by a few days," he sighed. Maine lit up. "You should go though. There's a new recruit that needs a bit of training and they thought you could do it. The mission could wait a few days and I'll be fine here by myself." 

And that's how they went about it. He made sure Maine was busy as he healed. He could see himself getting more violent and he realized he was caring less about it. 

He did not deserve Maine. 

The second time was an experiment. Maine was out training the new recruit how to shoot, and he was at home for the next couple of days. He had leave before his next mission - just a little R&R.

He had the lighter in his hand, and a cigarette in his mouth. He lifted the flame to the smoke in his mouth, but at the last second he did not light it. He sat staring at the flame for a moment before bringing his hand up and letting the flame lick at his wrist. 

It smelled terrible, and he could see the skin blacken and bubble as it burned. He did not stop until he could feel it, until he could think clearly. He tossed the lighter away from him, the flame going out as it fell. 

He watched his wrist for a moment. It was not bleeding, probably cauterized by the flame already. He stood and made his way into the bathroom, smearing the cream from his last burn over the wound so it would not get infected. He wrapped the wrist awkwardly with one hand and settled back against the couch. 

He would not tell Maine, he decided as he lit his cigarette and relaxed into the couch. 

Maine found out about his wrist, but Maine, poor dear, thought he had burned himself on the stove. He did not correct his lover. 

Every time after that was completely on purpose. Every time he felt the haze return, he would burn or cut or bruise himself in attempt to keep his mind in tact. But then, the pain wasn't enough. Not enough to keep his utter violence under check. 

He bruised Maine, made him bleed. He hurt his lover, his partner in everything. He tried to break the only heart he had. That's when he knew - he knew it was time to let Maine go. 

He busied himself with moving his things to a new place while Maine was at work, filing the paperwork to be split from his partner. He pushed it through, and Maine was freed from him quickly. 

He left, leaving a small note on the door to their place - "I'm Sorry - B" it said, in a hurried, messy scrawl. He settled into his new place easily, and that's when he decided not to hurt himself anymore. This was meant to happen - Maine deserved so much better than him, but he still wanted his Lover. 

It was time to let go, but he didn't know if he could. He wouldn't hurt Maine again, not yet. Not now. He couldn't see the future, but for right now, Maine was safe and free from him. 

He would just have to live without his heart.


End file.
